


The Lace that binds

by suchadearie



Series: Smutocalypse [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: LaceyxBellexGold, Multi, PWP, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, smutocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchadearie/pseuds/suchadearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gold tries to bring Belle back after she was cursed with Lacey, it backfires, and now there are two women, neither one quite whole, but with a deep bond between the two of them...<br/>Second fic of the smutocalypse. PWP, basically</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lace that binds

Gold was tired. He should be in his shop, searching for a way to reverse the latest mishap, but his mind was blank, and maybe, it would be nice to just lay down and sleep for a while. Maybe then, everything would be alright again. He would wake up, and find that everything had been nothing but a cruel joke of his imagination. Lacey never happened. And his attempt at bringing Belle back had never led to…this. He dragged himself up the stairs and down the hall, pausing at the door to Belle’s room. It stood slightly ajar, and he heard a soft crooning. The longing to see her itched under his skin, made his stomach clench, and despite the shame that made him clench his jaws, he peeked inside. Just once, he told himself. _It’s not spying when the door is open_. He gave the door a gentle push to open it just a few inches more, just so he could look inside.

In a way, his attempt at bringing Belle back had been successful. He brought her back. He brought her back by splitting her in half, leaving her incomplete and miserable. In a way, she was a reflection of Belle. She was real, as far as he could tell, but a part of her remained inside Lacey. So now, instead of having Belle back, instead of restoring her memory, he had split her into two women, looking exactly alike, but being as disparate as they could be, like two poles of a magnet. This was not how it was supposed to be.

What met his eyes was a scene that could have been beautiful. If he wouldn’t have known that the two women in front of the dressing table were like the snakeheads of a gorgon, one soul split between two bodies, it would have been soothing to watch Lacey brush Belle’s hair and let the strands glide through her fingers. He was not sure how he was able to tell them apart, but he knew that the woman seated in front of the mirror was Belle, wearing the negligee he once gave her – after the curse broke. Lacey had something more feral about her, a fierce, insatiable hunger brimming just under the surface, whereas Belle was calm. Too calm. It was this calmness that told him that something had gone wrong. Belle, his Belle, had been a fighter, the fierceness now reverberating through Lacey and condensed into a thirst for life, for excitement, had been part of Belle’s strength. This Belle was meek. It was almost painful to look at her. He stepped back, wanting to leave the two of them, when Lacey’s voice made him pause.

“What exactly do you like about him? He’s so…weak.”

“He isn’t. He’s gentle, and kind. That’s not weakness.”

“Gentle and kind, huh? That’s another way to say boring.”

Gold stepped closer to the open door again, watching how Belle bent her profile, looking down at her clasped hands. She twisted her fingers in her lap, and a faint blush covered her cheeks. Lacey continued brushing her, curling dark strands of hair around her fingers with the focus of a cat playing with a strand of yarn.

“Why are you even here if you don’t like him?” Belle looked back over her shoulder, and Gold saw a grin flit over Lacey’s face in the mirror.

“He does have his…charms. I could have fun with other men, but few of them have his power. Or his darkness.”

It didn’t come as a surprise to him that the thing Lacey valued most about him were his power and his darkness. Belle, on the other hand, seemed appalled.

“What about his heart? There’s so much good in it. He has so much love to give.”

Lacey shrugged. She wasn’t interested in his goodness, and never had been. For a short while, Gold had allowed himself to be dragged down by the allure of her hunger for darkness, her eagerness to let him indulge her with his power. It had been exhilarating. Addictive. He shivered when he saw how Lacey painted small circles on Belle's shoulder, her dark nails a sharp contrast to Belle’s pale skin. Then Lacey bent down, lifting up Belle’s mass of curls and whispering against the nape of her neck.

“Don’t you know how good it feels to give up control and let the power wash over you? I like the kick.”

Belle didn’t answer, and Gold saw her take in a deep breath when Lacey kissed her neck. But she didn’t protest to the caress. Instead, she tilted her head to give Lacey better access to her skin, and the intimate, natural way of the gesture made Gold wonder if this was something they had done before. He wanted to retreat, grant Belle her privacy, but his feet wouldn’t move. He was paralyzed, fascinated, unable to look away.

Lacey planted another kiss below Belle’s earlobe, a place that Gold himself had kissed often, a place he knew was incredibly sensitive to the touch of his lips, and his breath hitched in his throat when Belle sighed and made the needy little sound that he adored so much. Lacey nibbled down the side of Belle’s neck, and Gold had to suppress the sound that tickled at the back of his throat when he saw heat rise in Belle’s skin, tinting her chest and neck and cheeks.

“It scares me to give up control”, Belle said, and the quiet tone of her voice washed over him like ice water. Of course it would scare her. She had been abducted and tied up and locked away so often, it had to leave an imprint on her soul. She fought for independence and control over her life – at least the real Belle did. This Belle seemed to just float around, letting the drift carry her hither and thither.

“I know, darling. But it doesn’t need to be bad. Just trust me on this, ok? I’ll show you.” Lacey moved her lips to Belle’s other shoulder, tilting her head the other way, and Gold saw in the mirror over the dressing table how Belle closed her eyes and held her breath.

“I trust you. You’re me, somehow, aren’t you?”

“Exactly.” Lacey smiled at Belle in the mirror, caressing her shoulders and trailing her fingertips along Belle’s collarbones. Gold closed his eyes for a moment, listening to Belle’s breath quickening, and he told himself again to retreat. He was an intruder, a lurker, witnessing a moment that wasn’t meant for him. Still, he was pinned in place, observing with aching lungs how Lacey’s fingertips whispered down from Belle’s collarbones to the tip of her breasts, puckering beneath the silk of the negligee. He missed to touch Belle, the real Belle, not Lacey, and not this Belle, whose flesh and blood missed that spark that made Belle… Belle. Lacey plucked at Belle’s nipples, and he could hear her breath catch when Lacey started to suck and lick at the tender skin of her throat. Her head fell back, against Lacey’s shoulder, and she arched her chest up into the touch.

“Just relax, Belle. I’ll be nice, ok?” Lacey straightened and stepped around Belle, and she went through the tins and boxes on the table, searching for something. “Found it”, she said with a giggle and pulled a broad lace ribbon out of a box that held hair accessories. Gold felt like suffocating when she stepped back behind the stool and let her palms slide down Belle’s arms, down to her wrists, clasping them to bring them gently behind Belle’s back. Belle did neither flinch nor protest, and Gold’s heart jumped when he saw her bite her lip in the mirror. _Please, tell her you don’t like this_ , he pleaded voicelessly, but Belle remained silent, bending her head when Lacey wrapped the ribbon once around each wrist and tied them together with a pretty bow. She pressed a kiss between Belle’s shoulder blades when she was done, and twisted Belle’s hair to a thick rope, wrapping it around her hand and pulling Belle’s head back, forcing her to expose her throat. Gold was torn between stepping in and leaving them alone. Other than Belle, he didn’t trust Lacey. He had not yet made up his mind when Lacey brushed her lips over Belle’s, capturing her bottom lip in a kiss so gentle that it kept Gold rooted to the spot. Belle’s eyes fluttered shut, and her face showed a longing that he recognized. It was the same look of love and adoration her face showed when she looked at him, and his lungs seemed to crush his heart between them at the sight of it. Belle opened her eyes when Lacey let go of her lips, and they smiled at each other, wordlessly and in a silent agreement that shut the world out and created a universe between the two of them.

“Ok?” Lacey asked, and Belle nodded, her smile never faltering. It was this moment that Gold finally decided to step back and go, leaving their world to them, but on his silent retreat, he collided with the small wall table holding a vase, and he barely managed to keep it from falling and shattering. His cane clattered to the floor when he reached for the vase, and it made enough of a noise to alert Belle and Lacey. He heard steps, blending in with his violent heartbeat thrumming in his eardrums, and before he could adapt a pose that was sufficiently unsuspicious, Lacey opened the door to find him in the hallway, holding on to the vase for dear life.

“Look at that. It’s Gold.” Lacey narrowed her eyes, and Gold knew that he was blushing. Heat crept up into his cheeks, and his skin seemed too taut, too small for his body. Lacey looked him up and down, and her gaze lingered much too long on his crotch, so long that the unpleasant tightness of his skin made him want to punch something. And Lacey looked up, met his eyes and _smiled_ , the feral smile of a cat that had cornered a mouse. “You”, she said, and the tone of her voice was almost warm. “Follow me.” And just like that, she turned around and stalked back into the bedroom. He followed her slowly, hardly breathing. Belle had turned around on the stool, but she was still sitting with her wrists bound in her back. Lacey didn’t wait for him to take in the situation, or to say something in his defense – not that there was anything, really – but pointed to the king-size bed.

“Sit down there”, she ordered, and he slumped down on the mattress, feeling that his legs would refuse to hold him up any longer. He faced Belle, but Lacey stepped between the two of them and bent down to capture Belle’s gaze. The whole situation was so surreal that Gold wasn’t sure he wasn’t stuck in some dream.

“Darling, he will be sitting there on the bed, but he will do nothing you don’t want him to do, alright? And you just need to pull at the ribbon to untie it.” Lacey spoke to Belle as if he wasn’t there. As if he didn’t matter. And truly, he didn’t. Whatever it was that Lacey was doing, it was all about Belle.

“It’s ok.” Belle tilted her head and shifted on the stool to look past Lacey and straight at him. “Hi, Rumple.”

“Hey…” He wanted to ask her if this was truly what she wanted, wanted to ask if she really was ok, wanted to ask why she did this, but all his questions got stuck in his throat, filling his mouth with gravel and grit. Lacey looked back over her shoulder at him and frowned.

“No touching yourself, understood?”

He tried to swallow the lump blocking his throat, but his mouth was too dry. So, instead of answering, he just nodded. He had no idea what this was leading to. And although he wanted to be anywhere but there in this room, the tightness in his pants got more uncomfortable while Lacey’s stern eyes scrutinized him.

 After a last glance at him, Lacey went down to her knees between Belle's parted legs, cupping Belle's face to pull her in for a kiss. Gold was sure his voice would crack and splinter on his tongue when he spoke, and the sound was raw and pierced the soft quietness that filled the air. He flinched at his own words.

"What exactly are you doing?"

Lacey broke the kiss and shot him an impatient look. "What does it look like? I'm showing Belle that she doesn't need to be in charge all of the time. I show her to let go and relax."

"I don't think you understand what you're doing."

Lacey raised her eyebrows, and Gold wondered if the split had left her with more of Belle's personality than he had thought till now.

"Don't worry, you will still be allowed to kiss her feet and the ground she's walking on."

Belle followed their argument quietly, and Gold wished she would show some initiative, would open her lips to give a statement, but she just watched them with a fleeting smile. Lacey looked from him to Belle and furrowed her brows.

"You did have sex, didn't you? Because you both act as if the other one was made of glass. Maybe you both need that lesson..."

Gold wanted to protest, wanted to tell her that he knew that Belle would not break at the slightest touch, but Lacey's next move cut him off. She pulled Belle to her feet and pushed her down on his lap. Belle came to sit on his thighs, leaning her back against his chest, and Lacey took his hands, hanging limp like driftwood at his sides, to place them on Belle's waist. He could feel her breath, feel the warmth of her skin through the flimsy negligee and he almost squeaked when Belle cupped him through the fabric of his pants. She tilted her head and pressed a kiss to his jaw, without hesitation and with a heartbreaking tenderness. He wanted her to be real, to be complete, and he suffered with the knowledge that she maybe didn't even know that she was missing something.

"It's ok, Rumple. I love you. You don't need to worry."

He inhaled sharply when her weight shifted and she pressed her backside – and her bound palms, resting with a tantalizing pressure against his erection – closer to him. Lacey had clasped Belle's knees and parted her legs to place them at either side of his own legs, spreading her open and vulnerable on his lap. Belle sighed and leaned back, so trusting and content that he wanted to weep. Lacey kissed her again, and Belle's head fell back to rest on his shoulder. He pressed his face to her neck, inhaling her scent that was so real, so Belle, and he pressed a kiss to her skin. Lacey started to kiss down the other side of her neck, open-mouthed, and Belle sighed again, a sweet sound of abandon and pleasure. Lacey left a trail of wet spots on her way down to the tip of Belle's breast, kissing first the one and then the other, leaving the silk of the negligee wet and dark and clinging to Belle's skin. He longed to touch her hardened nipples, circle them and cup the soft swell of her breasts, but he didn't dare to move his hands away from her waist. He felt her ribcage expand with each breath she took, and his own breath came in a matching rhythm, ever so slightly shaking. He wished this moment to be real, wished there was no Lacey, and no lace to bind Belle’s hands. He wished she would tell him what to do, not only in this moment but with this whole messed up situation. Instead she leant on to him, trusting that he would find the right thing to do on his own.

He looked down at Lacey, who was kneeling again in front of them, pushing his legs apart to have better access to Belle. She looked just like Belle, and yet, she was so wildly different. He wondered how this felt for her. Belle turned her head and leant her forehead against his jaw.

“Rumple?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Would you please touch me? You haven’t really touched me since…” Her voice was barely more than a sigh, and the last part seemed too difficult to get out. But he knew what she meant. He needed her, more than anything, needed her to be there, but each time he looked at her, he felt as if something was tying her to that curse and kept her from fully entering this world. What if this was the price for bringing her back? He didn’t treat her like the real Belle, didn’t act around her like he acted around the real Belle, and he didn’t touch her like the real Belle. But perhaps this was what was keeping her from being the real Belle. Maybe it was not her, but him who was the problem. With a groan, he pressed his lips to her shoulder again, sucking hard on her skin, and he slid his hands up from her waist to cup her breasts, squeeze them in sudden possessiveness, and almost sobbed when Belle arched into his touch, her fingers curling and rubbing his hard cock through the fabric of his pants.

Belle gasped, and arched her back until he feared she would break, and Gold realized that Lacey had started to kiss her way from Belle’s knee towards her centre, making Belle rock against him in anticipation. He met her movements with true desperation, the need to feel more than just this constant, diffuse pressure building up inside him, and he circled Belle’s nipples, the rough skin of his fingertips catching in the wet fabric of her negligee.

“Oh god…” Belle pressed her cheek harder to his jaw, twitching when Lacey pushed up the hem of her negligee to press her lips to Belle’s sex. Gold wanted to see it, desperately, and he fisted the negligee to pull it up and out of the way. It was like lifting the curtain to a forbidden play, heady and breathtaking, watching Lacey between their legs, kissing and licking and sucking, eating Belle out as thoroughly as a cat cleaned a kitten. Belle squirmed on his lap, gasping and panting, and each twitch against him brought him closer to losing control. It was incredibly hot and tight in his clothes, too tight to breathe, and he felt as if he himself was bound and restricted. He wanted to feel Belle’s skin on his, slick with sweat, wanted to be inside her, and he was sure his cock would bust the tight confinement of his pants any moment to enter into the wet heat that Belle pressed against him, again and again. He envied Lacey for tasting Belle, for feeling her silken folds, for making Belle moan and beg in a frantic rhythm of gasps and mangled words. When Lacey started to stroke Belle with her fingers, pushing slowly into her while sucking on her clit, Belle tensed, and started to tremble uncontrollably, gripping his cock so hard it was almost painful. Gold caressed the swell of her breasts, tenderly, plucking her nipples in the most delicate way, and a strangled cry broke out of her throat when her orgasm claimed her. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her from sliding off his lap, and for a moment he just relished to have her warm and soft and relaxed in his arms.

Lacey wiped her face with Belle’s negligee and came to her feet, and without paying attention to his own needy sound of protest, she pulled Belle from his lap and into her arms and kissed her again. Gold stared at Belle’s wrists, still bound with the lace ribbon, and he bent forward to press a kiss to her palm before he pulled at the ribbon and it came undone with a soft rasping sound. Lacey led Belle back to the bed, and before she climbed onto the mattress to stretch out at Belle’s side, she slipped out of her skin tight dress and her underwear, mounting the bed stark naked. Gold did no longer care what his role in this play was supposed to be, or if what he did was right or wrong. He shed his clothes hastily, tossing them to a messy heap on the floor, and crawled into the bed to stretch out at Belle’s other side, pressing himself to her back. She sighed happily and reached for his hand to wrap his arm around her, humming deep in her throat, a sound that vibrated in her body and sprung over to him to tickle over his skin, making him shiver.

“I love you, Belle”, he whispered against the nape of her neck, and in this moment, it was true, even if he still wasn’t sure if she was real or not.

“I love you too, Rumple.” He felt her smile more than he saw it, and he buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply. His hips rocked against her backside out of their own accord, his cock aching for friction, and she answered with a tantalizing roll of her hips. He felt something brush his forearm that rested against her stomach, and looked up to find Lacey, pressing herself against Belle’s front and leaning in for another kiss. Gold envied her those kisses, envied her every inch of skin she touched, and he wished once more his attempt at bringing Belle back hadn’t gone so terribly wrong. His thoughts were washed away when Belle wrapped her leg around Lacey’s, making way for his aching cock to slip between her thighs and rest against her slick, silken folds. He rocked against her, rewarded by a sweet sigh when the tip of his shaft slipped in. It was torture not to be able to go in deeper, and he groaned and bit down on the crook of her neck, sucking hard to mark her flesh. Between their bodies, coated with sweat, he wriggled his hand between her thighs to feel her, to tease her, and Belle pressed herself to his fingers, away from his cock. He was barely hanging on to reason now, his whole body burned in his need to feel her, to make her his again, his alone, not Lacey’s, but Belle wouldn’t let go of the other woman when he tried to pull her away and into his arms alone.

“Belle, please, I need you…”, he rasped out, and almost wept when Belle wriggled out of his arms to plaster herself all over Lacey, kissing the other one’s chest, between her breasts, and sucking her nipples into her mouth. Lacey groaned and writhed, and if he hadn’t been anxious what it could do to Belle, he would have made her disappear in a cloud of purple smoke. As it was, he could only watch when Belle kissed her way down between Lacey’s legs, and started to kiss and lick at her sex, returning the favor. When Lacey raked through Belle’s hair, pressing her head down with a moan deep in her throat, he was done watching. Moving to kneel behind Belle, parting her legs with his knee, he pulled her up to kneel, aligning himself to take her from behind. Belle didn’t stop to lap at Lacey, but she tipped her ass up to make it easier for him, and that was all he needed as an invitation. With a hoarse groan, he buried himself to the hilt in her wet heat, panting like a bull, and causing her to squeak with the force of his thrust.

He took her without finesse then, without artful touches or tender caresses, pounded into her mindlessly just to claim her, while she had her face buried between Lacey’s thighs and brought the other one off. He tried not to look at Lacey’s face, contorted and flushed with pleasure, because it wasn’t Belle’s face, and Belle was the only one he wanted, and he tried to shut out the high pitched moan escaping Lacey’s lips when she came. Belle didn’t stop lapping at her, and Gold thrust harder into her, harder, until he felt her convulse around him, heard her muffled groan and felt the edges of his vision blur. He came with a hoarse cry, spilling himself deep inside of her, leaving angry red marks on her skin where he had grabbed her hips and held on for dear life. He fell to her side, horrified by his own brutality.

“I’m so sorry, Belle, I’m so, so sorry”, he repeated again and again, rubbing at the bruises he had caused her, but Belle lifted her head and smiled at him, bleary-eyed and not quite from this world.

“It’s ok, Rumple. You didn’t hurt me.”

Lacey grunted and wriggled out of Belle’s grip to stretch herself at her other side. “Thanks for your concern, I’m fine”, she huffed, and Belle giggled and pressed a kiss to her lips, sticky face and all.

“Thank you, darling. That was amazing.”

She didn’t thank him, and Gold already felt the jealousy gnaw at his stomach again, turning the sweet afterglow of his thoroughly spent body into tense coldness. He needed to find a way to remedy this situation, to make it right again, to make Belle whole again. But first, he needed to sleep, and despite his mind refusing to give in, the exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he drifted off to sleep, Belle snuggled to his chest, holding Lacey in her arms.


End file.
